TW: SEXUAL ASSAULT. READ AT OWN DISGRESSION.
He turned the lock in the wrong direction.
All that is racing through my mind is, he didn't even lock the door properly. The door isn't locked.
Why would he want to lock the door?
The mattress creaks beneath his weight and I'm so confused because didn't I just say goodnight? What is happening? I don't understand. The son of the pastor's hands are on my thigh.
And then his hands are pushing my dress up up up and over my body and I'm trying to push against him but I can't seem to find my arms. His lips sear through the skin on my face and neck and muffle my cries and
The door isn't locked.
This is all that is keeping me alive. I don't know why I am so afraid I don't know why I can't move and I don't know who this boy is and what he is doing but
the door is unlocked.
The spark of hope is quickly dampened by a realisation.
This is my boyfriend.
The house is empty.
There is nobody in the world who is coming to save me.
VOCÊ ESTÁ LENDO
clementine
Ficção AdolescenteLet's get this clear; I am not Clementine Ross. I was not her sister, or her best friend in the world, or even a person that she opened up to completely when she was devastatingly drunk one night. And every time someone solemnly asks (and this happe...
